


Way Down Below

by starlithorizons



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Belowtale AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlithorizons/pseuds/starlithorizons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. In the year 201X, those with red eyes are scorned as outcasts and burdens to society. For years, Chara has suffered this abuse alone - but suddenly, they meet someone else like them. And they're determined to protect them, one way or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Way Down Below

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Belowtale AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/163163) by campanella. 



> hi there, I'm Starmy and I haven't written fic in literally years! woah! this is a fic for the belowtale au, which is super charming and good, go read it. and give nella a follow, they're a pal.  
> this work contains themes that I haven't worked with before, and I hope that I portrayed them well and acceptably. if you think there's a way I could improve then please don't hesitate to let me know!  
> cw for: abuse and implied self harm.

Rocks didn’t have to be big to hurt. Really, anything bigger than your fingernail could leave a sizable dent, provided you threw it hard enough. In fact, those might even hurt the most, they discovered on the occasion. People would throw anything, but the small, bullet-sized rocks were the worst.

It was these things they reflected on when Chara stole into their small house. They would blow gingerly on the cuts and scrapes littering their arms and legs, both old and new, grab a couple of bandages lying around, retreat into the relative safety of their small room. _Barbaric_ , they’d hiss out, running their fingers through their hair and shutting their door. _Childish_. It was one thing for kids to run each other around, but for adults to turn a blind eye? For some to take part in it?

Their eyes would gravitate to a mirror hanging upon the wall; red and piercing, their own gaze stared back at them. _Ridiculous_. It was 201X. Weren’t people past these stupid superstitions by now? Trudging over to their own reflection on the wall, their fingertips pressed harshly against their skin as they spread their eyelids. Rubies, sunsets, blood - a shade by any other name just as foul. A wretched creature, one born with red eyes; a creature of ill-omen. A cretchen. A demon.

Really, just a child. Not like anybody really cared. Not their parents, not their neighbors. If anything, their parents were the worst of it. Acknowledgement was, evidently, too much to ask for. Whenever, if it came, it was in the form of sharp beratement. Don’t touch that. Don’t go there. Don’t look at them. Don’t look at me. How could you? Why would you? Stupid. _Stupid_. The words stung almost as much as much as their own nails against own skin, as much as the occasional slap of derision, as much as bullet-sized rocks in alleyways.

There were few places that they could find safe harbor. Their room was good during the day; no one was home except them, after all. That didn’t mean the rest of the house was free reign. Mom and Dad could always be lurking somewhere - so their small, cluttered room was their own. It was a little bleak, with just a small twin bed that felt like a cot and thin carpet that might as well have been concrete. It was constantly on the messy side, with old bandages peeled off or gauze stashed out of sight or papers crinkled and abandoned. It was stocked with toys, hand-me-downs from their good friend the garbage. Half of them worked, and none of them were interesting. Thus, they would have to spend the long hours of the day entertaining themself in other ways. It typically involved drawing; that was a reasonable distraction from the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Perhaps they should have been going to school, but they’d given up on that a long time ago. The only one that seemed to care was them, because they felt cheated; they wanted to know, to learn, but they had been chased out of the one place they could do that. So instead, they sated their curiosity in the library. They read all kinds of books. Fiction, nonfiction, manuals, biographies. The librarian was one of the few reasonable people around them; she would come over to their little corner and help them understand a passage or choose the next book to read. They were still weary, but she at least respected their boundaries. She did not touch them, did not stare at them too long, did not overstay her welcome. It was refreshing, safe, but it could only last for so long. Even when she kept the library open past closing just for them, they eventually felt like too much of a burden and sometimes left close to tears. Then, it was back into the harsh reality of the rest of the village, which was not nearly so warm and accommodating.

_Cruel_. But, that was the way it was. Here, anyways. For now. For ten years, that had been everything, every waking moment. After a while, it grates on the nerves. You begin to believe it. A bunch of people wouldn’t just say things that weren’t true, right? Surely, something had to be wrong with you. If you couldn’t do anything right, it must be your fault. You must be disgusting. But maybe there was more out there than this - that’s what they held onto, anyways. It was something they’d been planning for a while. Where to go, how to live on whatever money they could steal from their mother’s purse and the backpack they were perpetually packing. Deciding on a day was hard, but it would be sometime soon. When they were ready, they would go. But somehow, it took more courage than they anticipated, to take that final step towards something brighter.

Under the bed there was a checklist - things they might need before setting off. First aid supplies, water, food, clothing. Slowly, they checked things off as others found them missing; nothing that they couldn’t get replaced. What was a box of matches, in the grand scheme of things? Today, the mission was something a little more short-sighted: a bar of chocolate from the corner store. Something to last a couple of days, and maybe enough to stay on the road. But probably just for a couple of days at home. They supposed their parents succeeded in providing the most basic hierarchy of needs, at least: food, water, shelter. But no chocolate. So they’d have to get that themself.

Really, it was a tried and true method by now. Slip in just behind somebody else, weave around isles to make sure nobody caught sight of them, slip out at the same time someone else walks through the doors. No one saw, no one paid attention, and they could enjoy a king-size Hershey bar all to themself once they got back home.

At least, that was usually how the plan went.

“Filthy demon,” a woman hissed. Instinctively, Chara tensed, the hand around their prize tightening. Surely nobody had noticed--

“How many times have I told you? _Get out_.” A door slammed shut, just around the corner, and they blinked in confusion. Cautiously, they slid around the storefront to look; not too far off, a kid was sniffing in the dust, picking themself up slowly and rubbing at their skinned elbow. Frowning, they turned, and then looked up at the figure that was staring at them. They locked eyes with one another; they both froze, expecting backlash; they both gazed at one another with something between awe and confusion.

Rubies, sunsets, split lips and scraped knees. Slowly, Chara stepped over to the kid on the street who was staring up at them silently. The kid was small, but they shrunk even further as they got closer. When they were right on top of each other, Chara went down on a knee, reaching out to tug their cheek closer and get a closer look.

“... You have them too,” they noted astutely, tilting their head a little bit. How curious. They hadn’t known anyone else in the village had them; they hadn’t heard of it. Of course, they probably wouldn’t be _told_. What if the _demons_ were able to ally with one another and destroy everyone? Bring about ruin of not only the village, but the world? Somehow, that thought brought a smile to their lips. It would be nice to actually have a bit of sway, wouldn’t it? “So I guess we’re in this together.”

Immediately, they felt something inside of them. Something that burned, almost hurt in its intensity. Someone else understood - someone else endured it, felt it, lived it. They were no longer the only one who felt scathing words or sharp rocks or hot tears down their cheeks. It was relieving, not to be the only one in the world anymore, and against their very nature, they drew the smaller child into a fierce embrace. They were in this together. It wasn’t just them. Relief swept through them.

But this was someone else who shouldn’t have to feel any of those things. Anger flared up again.

The kid’s name was Frisk, they learned. Somebody with no parents of their own; rather than feigning the ability to raise a freak of nature, they simply left them behind. Instead, the staff of an institution which hated them filled with other children that hated them was left to rear them. This left them short of words, and instead they chose to sign. Chara couldn’t blame them; up until they were about seven, they chose the same way. Small vocalizations were more familiar, more comforting; it was harder for people to yell at you for not speaking correctly when you didn’t do it at all. You couldn’t get berated for tone when your hands were toneless. It simplified things, to an extent.

They offered them half of the chocolate they’d just lifted, and from that moment on they were inseparable. Chara made sure that Frisk was kept away from the masses; rather than cooping themself up in their room, they ventured out to scoop Frisk from the orphanage and find somewhere else to play. Sometimes, they would give them lessons in the library, but usually it was just outside the village, in a field of golden flowers. Not many people went out that way, as it was on the path to the dreaded Mt. Ebott, but to the two kids it was nothing short of home. There, they were safe from the cruel prejudices of humans. If they had to be in the village at all, it was just so Chara could get new things for Frisk. Bandages for their cheeks and knees; new clothes that they could find; perfectly functioning toys that people just threw away. They had to do something, anything. Frisk’s smile made it worth it. They had a smile that lit up the world in warmth, and they gave it out rather freely to people. Most of the time, people couldn’t even tell who they were looking at, as they had a tendency to simply keep their eyes closed or just barely opened - and so Frisk would smile at them if they found the courage.

Chara couldn’t understand. How could a child, faced with such cruelty, maintain enough hope to keep a smile? And how could a world, faced with such hope, maintain enough determination to snuff it out? It was senseless, both sides of it. They hated it. But they sheltered the other as much as they could, now. If they heard someone approaching, Chara would hike them up into their arms and disappear into an alleyway. If someone tossed a rock, Chara would catch it and throw it back harder. If they were going out in the morning, Chara would pick them up before anyone could notice their absences. If they were out too late, Chara would be sure to take them home and sneak them into bed before returning home themself. Around the clock, they were able to push themself forward with a newfound purpose: Frisk’s wellbeing. That was their mission now.

Well, the first one. The second one was to get them both away. They packed with a new sense of purpose, suddenly; it was less removing and replacing the same few objects every couple of days, and more prepping for the important things. They would slip away cold medicine, extra water bottles, granola bars. They began a schedule: at the end of each week, they would tally up the things that they needed. It got to the point where the backpack could hardly hold anything else, could hardly be concealed under the bed. All they needed now was a push over the edge.

Satisfied, they pushed back their messy hair and squinted at the bedside clock. Oh. Late. Glancing to the window confirmed this. They supposed they’d simply lost track of the time, given how intently they were working, but it wouldn’t be too late to pay Frisk another visit. Hopefully, they hadn’t been too lonely; they’d visited in the morning, but the rest of the day was spent in careful concentration and… perhaps loneliness. What had they even done all day, before meeting Frisk?

They pushed themself to their feet, stretching out their back with a satisfying crack. If they hurried, maybe the two of them could watch the moonrise from the flower field? Yes, that sounded like a wonderful end to a productive day. Assuming Frisk would still like to see them? Indecisively, they picked at a scab on their fingers.

Yes. Yes, they’d go. They were going. Go on.

They turned and resolutely slipped from their bedroom, slipping down the hall and out the front door without a sound. Most of the town probably wouldn’t be up now, anyways - maybe, if they were getting a late start, they would be eating dinner as a family. The smallest kids would be getting ready to head to bed for school tomorrow, the older kids would be finding ways to get out of an early bedtime.

Or maybe they already had. Their steps faltered around one corner, and they instinctively flattened themself against a brick wall, shrinking. Snickering slid around the alleyway, coiling around in their gut. “It went this way,” someone whispered, and the fear tugged tighter. Yes, there were the footsteps - heading away. They swallowed the lump of anticipation, biting the inside of their cheek and risking a glance. Nobody there. A street over?

“Okay. Ten points if you can make it cry - it cries real easy, y’know - but _thirty_ points if you make it scream.”

“Whaaat? That one doesn’t even make sound, that’s no fair,” another voice piped up, and Chara felt something between panic and horror. Where were they. _Where were they?_

“That’s why you gotta make it scream! All the other rules are the same. Five points for a rock to the stomach, ten to-”

“We’ve all done it before, stupid, and you’re being too _loud_. It’ll _hear_ us.” That was a third voice. There were at least two more unique sounds of agreement, and Chara picked up their pace, heart racing, palms sweating, blood boiling. Where were they. Where was Frisk. Their legs moved faster; they passed a street where a bunch of kids were huddled, and they worked their legs to find a way around.

By now, they knew the script. On three, they rushed with sticks and stones and words to break your heart. But they wouldn’t do that. Chara _wouldn’t let them do that again_.

One. Their heart was in their chest, and secrecy was to the wind, but if anyone noticed them it didn’t matter now. Their feet pounded hard against the ground; their turtleneck threatened to choke them.

Two. Just past this row of stores, now, and - yes, there, a short distance away. Frisk was dressed for bed, still in their pajamas; they must have snuck out. Then again, they had always preferred that sort of outfit, hadn’t they? No. Focus.

Three. From the alleyway, one of the children let out a blood-curdling shriek, their battlecry. They saw Frisk flinch, recoiling in fear. “Demon!” came a chorus of voices, all very convincing. “It’s the _demon_!” Frisk stumbled back, tears in their eyes already as they started to hold their arms up. They knew it, too. In just a couple of seconds, mere moments, they would-

Chara slid in front of them, their larger back blocking an array of stones hurled at the smaller child. One smacked them solidly in the back of the head and they scowled, but a moment later, they knelt down to Frisk’s level. The smaller kid was staring at them with big, tearful eyes, a couple of them already trailing down their face. Faintly, they let out a whimper of distress.

“It’s fine,” Chara reassured them, dropping briefly to their knees and grasping them by the shoulders. “We’re getting out of here.” For a moment, that seemed to scare Frisk even more - but then they blinked, the last of the tears rolling down their cheeks, and they gave a determined nod. Chara scooped them into their arms, ignoring the shrieks of laughter and mock fear from behind them. And then, they were running again.

“Oh no! _The demons!_ They’re getting away!”

“Quick, go after them!”

Stones followed the two of them through the streets, but Chara had learned to be fast. They wove around stores and alleys, sliding into a hiding place behind a dumpster as the kids ran by. They carried on with their game as Frisk lay trembling in their arms, clutching their sweater with small fists. Was this a game to them? Was pain really so entertaining? Chara scowled to themself, clutching Frisk tightly until they were both able to calm down, and everything seemed clear. Gently, they placed Frisk back on their feet and knelt down to them.

“Are you okay?” they asked softly, reaching up to rub at Frisk’s eyes. They were mindful of the bandaids already there, and the kid sniffled with a nod. “Okay. You’re _tough_ Frisk. Way tougher than them. But we won’t have to worry about them anymore, okay? We’re getting out of here. For good.” All they needed was a push. For all they cared, this was as good as hurling them into their purpose. It was time.

Frisk hesitated for a moment, rubbing at their own eyes and sniffling before wiping them clean on their pajamas. Their eyebrows furrowed, they shook their finger up at Chara before pointing their two index fingers straight ahead. _Where are we going?_

For a moment, Chara hesitated. Where were they going? They couldn’t just go live in the flower field, that was too close. So they would have to go somewhere else. “... Somewhere far away,” Chara told them, crouching down and turning so that Frisk could clamber onto their back. The smaller one did so obediently, and they started back towards the house. “It’ll be better than here. Don’t worry.”

Frisk simply squeezed their neck in response. They weren’t too far, so Chara was able to slip quietly in and towards the room. No movement inside. Their parents were either watching television in the basement, or they were in their room. Not like it mattered. Quickly and quietly, they slipped Frisk onto their bed and dragged out the bag from under their bed. It slid over their shoulders like a heavy cloak of confidence. This was the right thing to do. Tonight, under the cover of darkness, the two demons could disappear. They’d find a happy ending somewhere. It would be fine. It would be _great_.

With Frisk back on their shoulders, they very nearly went straight for the door… but something made them hesitate. Instead, they cautiously turned into the kitchen - empty - and headed towards the counter. Raising themself up onto their toes, they slid one of the knives from its rack and stashed it away in a side pocket of their bag.

And then, silently, the two of them passed through the slumbering town like a dream.

* * *

It was after only a few minutes of walking that Frisk tugged lightly on Chara’s sweater to get their attention. They glanced up and over to the smaller child, who leaned a bit precariously over so they could be seen. They pressed all their fingers together and then pressed that to each cheek in turn. _The flowers?_

Chara hesitated for a moment, glancing ahead at the road out of town. The flowers weren’t far enough away, ultimately. If anyone came looking for them - which their parents just might, if only for an excuse to yell - then it wouldn’t take long for them to be discovered. Everything would be snatched away from them before they even knew what they had, and more likely than not, they would never have that chance again. It was now or never. “Yeah, we’ll go there for a bit,” they finally replied. Their feet had already been pointed in that direction, anyways. They wanted a last taste of home before the two of them went off into… somewhere else.

They both knew the path better than the back of their hands. It took less than an hour to get there, but the added weight of a prepared pack was surprisingly tiring. Frisk slid off of their shoulders and plopped into the little field, getting themself settled as Chara knelt to dig through their bag. The older glanced over to see them rocking back and forth with large, curious eyes focused on them. They gave a small smile, tugging out the old flashlight they’d hidden amongst various other things. As they inspected it, turning it on, their expression soured a bit. The light was awfully weak, but the moon was bright enough to compensate for now. Really, this was just in case they had to risk any particularly dark caves. Frisk didn’t like the dark very much, so they would try to avoid that in the first place, but it was better safe than sorry.

With that settled, they flipped their messenger bag shut again and leaned against it. Their fingers absentmindedly went to the large golden flowers surrounding them, and with a small flourish, they brought one up to their face. They always smelled so sweet, but not overpowering. It was a comforting smell, one they imagined a home might smell like. After a moment of consideration, they looked over to Frisk again, who was content playing with their feet. A smile touched Chara’s lips again, and they glanced back to the blossom they cradled around them. Humming a gentle tune, one by one the flowers around them disappeared from the ground, instead braiding together into a garland. They leaned closer to their companion, and the small child blinked up at them - before they let out a giggle as a crown of flowers was dropped onto their head.

“We should get going,” they said softly, and Frisk gave a little nod. The bag was back on their back, Frisk’s hand was back in theirs, and they made their way on the path again.

Mt. Ebott loomed ahead of them, foreboding in its intensity. Frisk lift their head to crane up at it; they pointed questioningly. Chara gave a small nod. They had read plenty of books about the history of the mountain - how it was supposedly the burial site of monsters thousands of years ago, how it was the site of strange crystals and legends of old. But all of these things had been explained, more or less; beautiful glowing crystals had been analyzed, prehistoric animal skeletons had been found. It was all it seemed to be: a mountain. A big one.

But the people, superstitious as they were, refused to go near it. After all, legends said that those who climb the mountain never return.

And they never would.

The climb got significantly steeper, after a point. Since the mountain was so rarely traversed, there were very few paths; sometimes, it was flat enough for Frisk to walk along beside them, but at other points they had to practically toss the other over ledges so they could find a way to climb up. Progress felt slow, but when they reached a ridge and were able to look out over the land they’d traveled, it was rather breathtaking. They had never been so far away from the village before, and only a couple of night owls still had their windows burning with light. At their side, Frisk clutched their hand and stepped a little closer to the edge. It took all of their willpower not to simply tug them back to a safer distance, but they resisted, instead opting to watch.

Frisk stared at their old home for a few long moments, pushing their sweet garland across their mussed curls pensively. Amidst the silence, they reached up a hand and gave a big wave.

Without signing anything more, they turned and started to tug Chara back along the mountain. With a smile, they followed.

After what felt like hours, days, Frisk finally got tired; Chara let them ride on their shoulders again. They had to put as much distance between them and the village as soon as possible. Really, they were probably safe by now, but every shadow and every rock and every movement made them tense or jump or stare. They weren’t safe yet. They knew that they couldn’t be; Frisk wouldn’t be safe until they were as far away from this place as possible. Somehow, they would be found. They were sure of it. So they had to keep moving. But eventually, they could feel their own pace slowing, and the flashlight was nearly out of batteries. Rapidly flinging its beam in the direction of anything that might have shifted wasn’t practical anymore, so they had to find some place to rest.

Without much else of a choice, they settled on a nearby little cave that didn’t face the village. Really, they were glad that Frisk was a heavy sleeper; it made it much easier to place them gently on the ground, remove the bag, and then sit down without feeling too guilty about it. Gathering Frisk gently to their chest, they rested their weary head against the pack and considered the prospect of a bright future ahead. It was that comforting thought that finally put them at ease enough to drift off into sleep.

Of course, not for long. Their eyes opened at the first hint of light against them, and the child blinked groggily. Not enough sleep, but it didn’t matter much. They didn’t sleep a lot, regardless. The palm of one hand rubbed a sleepy eye as they carefully sat up and took note of their surroundings.

No animals. No people. No fear.

A smile full of pride and determination brightened their face, and they carefully picked themself back up again. With half of a granola bar and a swig of water, they were back on the road again. Chara was, at least - Frisk was now cradled in their arms, which was fine. They were still little, and they needed the rest anyways - and it wasn’t like they were a pain to carry. They never would be. Chara didn’t mind.

At some point, Frisk woke up and started to walk alongside them again. The flower crown was decently smooshed and a bit withered by now, but they held it tight on one of their fists and occasionally brought it close for a smell. On the occasion, whenever they paused at some sort of junction, the smell would waft up to them as well; it eased their nerves a little bit. Maybe they could save all the seeds and grow the flowers somewhere else? Their own little garden. Chara had read a book on gardening once, and had always wanted to try it themself. That’d be a nice start to a new home, wouldn’t it?

Things like that distracted them on the occasion as they went. How did you make a new home, anyways? They would need a house, maybe, some beds… some way to get clothes and such, but Chara was decent at knitting. That was how they’d made their own winter scarf when they couldn’t find any other one, and they realized with a dim pang that they’d accidentally left that somewhere at home. Oh well. They could make another.

Their mind was pulled out of such wistful considerations now and again, when Frisk stopped hugging their arm and ran off. Sometimes they were simply a bit frustrated with the slow pace; sometimes they were enchanted by an animal or insect a little ways away; sometimes they saw something shiny and went to go investigate. The most recent one was a stick that they now tapped the ground with as they went, vocalizing softly; the garland instead hung loosely from their elbow, and they tugged it back up whenever it slipped.

It was slow going, but Chara wouldn’t complain. They wouldn’t slow down, they wouldn’t turn back… but admittedly, their legs were getting a little bit tired. It got to a point where Frisk _commanded_ that they sit and rest inside of a little overhang, and they couldn’t do anything but obey. They took a seat on a large boulder and turned to look first up at the sky… and then down to the gaping abyss before them. Maybe this hadn’t been a good spot to rest.

_What’s down there?_ Frisk signed at them curiously, and Chara eyed the hole with a deep knot of dread.

“Probably nothing but rocks,” they replied with a small frown. Hard, painful rocks. And maybe the bones of other people who had fallen down there, but it was hard to imagine anybody else coming this far.

But Frisk pouted, unsatisfied with this answer. Cautiously, they stepped a bit closer to the edge, and Chara stiffened. “Frisk, get away from there,” they scolded, getting to their feet and stepping closer. “You aren’t wearing shoes, you might-”

They were already right there, within grabbing distance, but a bit of loose soil slipped beneath Frisk’s foot. They let out a small gasp, and Chara lunged to grasp them - but the ground here was slick, even with boots. They lost their footing, and their heart went from their stomach into their throat.

The moment was caught in time. Both of their faces wide, childish, fearful as they hung over the edge to oblivion. And then time surged forward, moving in fast motion, and Chara let out a cry as they both plummeted. They tumbled in a bit of a heap down the slope before falling far deeper. Chara kept a death grip on Frisk, their fingers clawing at their side while their other hand grappled in vain for some sort of purchase. A root, a rock, a ledge, anything, anything. All they received was scraped skin and bloody nails as they fell, and all they could do at that point was wrap their arms securely across the smaller body and keep them facing upwards as they fell.

“Don’t let go!” they yelled unnecessarily, as Frisk’s hands were already painfully digging into their chest. Their words spiraled upwards, snatched away by the greedy air whose fingers were tugging at their hair, their clothes, their bag, their breath, their tears. Everything was being torn away from them again. Their hopes, their dreams, their future. They would die along with rocks at the bottom of a deep chasm, alone, and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. They had been so close.

Chara squeezed their eyes shut, curling slightly around Frisk, before they hit the soft ground very hard and the entire world went dark. Presumably, forever.

But, then again, maybe not. The first thing they became aware of was their pounding heart - but no, that was wrong again. It wasn’t their heart, even though by some miracle, it was still beating. The pounding was something external, something weak and persistent, something that occasionally tugged on the fabric of their sweater. Groggily, they opened their eyes as a strange whimper and whine reached their ears - and they found Frisk with tears pouring down their face, smacking them weakly again and again.

“Wh- Frisk?” they mumbled, reaching up to rub their aching head. “What’s wrong?”

The child gaped momentarily before beginning to sign a bit clumsily, their fingers moving too frantically to keep up. After a couple of attempts, though, Chara was able to understand: _I thought you were dead!!_

Blinking a few times, the older slowly sat up with a small groan; Frisk slid down into their lap, but reached out to cling tightly to their sweater again. “I’m sure I was breathing,” they said softly, and Frisk’s face scrunched up further.

I wasn’t sure!! they replied indignantly, and they erupted into hiccups and sniffles again. Their hands struggled to form coherent thoughts. _I was scared!! No moving, no looking, for so long…_

How long had they been out, actually? Their head still throbbed - and now that they were really thinking about it, so did everything else. But somehow, they’d managed to fall on top of what seemed to be a flower patch, or something. They pushed these observations aside, instead gently pressing their ruined hands to Frisk’s sides. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, Frisk, I’m fine,” they reassured them, trying to give a comforting smile. “See? Hey, look!” They reached a hand up to tug at their cheeks, making one of their signature goofy faces - which earned them a small giggle through the tears. Good. That was a start.

“See? Just fine!” Granted, their hands hurt and their face did, too, and Frisk looked a little scratched up as well, but at least they weren’t dead. Somehow. “Listen,” they told the smaller kid, glancing around for the bag that had slipped off of their shoulders during the fall and finding it just an arm’s reach away. They tugged it closer, looking up at the light that was filtering down towards them before they smiled at Frisk once more. “We’re okay, so we’re going to have to find a way back up, okay? Then we can keep go-”

Their train of thought was broken by movement. Definite movement this time. They cut themself off, immediately glancing around the spacious cavern. Frisk stared at them, concerned at this sudden tension, but they couldn’t help it. Something was here. Chara refused to survive a deadly fall and then die to whatever was at the _bottom_ of that fall, that was just _stupid_.

And then, from around a corner behind them, they heard footsteps. Immediately they were on their feet; they picked up Frisk and ushered them to stand behind their legs; they reached down to the bag and tugged out the knife from its pocket. It swung forward to ward off whoever, whatever was in front of them - which was… certainly something.

A _fluffy child_ was staring at them, eyes wide and hands held up in a gesture similar to surrender. Clearly, he didn’t like Chara’s scowl, or this evident threat, but he wasn’t running. Chara wasn’t sure whether they liked this or not, but they snapped out a harsh, “Stay away!” that was worlds away from their tender tone with Frisk. The small creature in front of them recoiled briefly, almost looking like he was about to cry - before he took small steps forward.

“Are… Are you okay?” he asked at first, timid, before his eyes widened. “You… You’re hurt! I-I’m not going to hurt you, I promise! I could, um… I could help!”

Yeah, of course. This total stranger would totally help them, it was _totally_ fine. Did he think they were stupid? Their hold on the knife didn’t falter, and their eyes narrowed suspiciously, and they were about to snap and tell the person to leave them - but their attention was distracted by Frisk tugging on their sweater.

They glanced down, eyebrows furrowing a little as they signed. _We should go._

Incredulously, Chara could only stare at them. What were they thinking?! To just trust someone out of the blue like this, when they were already in dire straits - that was suicide. There was no way that this could end well. Chara didn’t know who or what this other kid was, but there was no way they could trust him. The only people they could trust were each other. And yet… they stared at Frisk for a few moments, who stared right back. Their face was all scuffed up, and their clothes were ripped. Maybe…

Their eyes slowly went back to the kid in the striped sweater, who was fidgeting with his hands - paws? - and looking at them apprehensively. Slowly, uncertainly, they lowered the kitchen knife and slipped it back into their bag. They slung it over their shoulder, their face twitching from the pain of the action, but this response earned a wide smile from the stranger. Visibly, he relaxed and nodded, but Chara still didn’t move closer.

“Where are you going to take us?” they demanded, and the stranger hesitated.

“Oh! Well, um, the castle isn’t too far away!” he replied, looking behind him. “That’s where my family and I live! I can take you there and my parents can get you all patched up, is that okay?” His bright eyes went back to the two of them, expectant.

Chara was still unsure. A castle? Parents? They bit their lip, hard, but Frisk wrapped their arms around theirs and tugged them forward encouragingly. Resigned, they could only sigh and nod.

“... Okay.”

Once again, the child brightened and nodded excitedly, turning and waving them forwards. “Okay! Follow me, it’s right this way!” He moved forward, a pacing himself to make sure they could easily keep up. Chara hesitated only briefly, all of their instincts screaming at them to run in the other direction, but they finally stepped forward in turn. They kept Frisk a bit behind them, still, but that didn’t stop the smaller one from staring at their new guide with ravish fascination. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anybody new here!” he was saying, passing by pillars that stretched all the way to the sky. “Usually monsters don’t really, uh, end up in the garden, either… but that’s okay! I’m sure my parents won’t mind!”

Monsters. Chara flinched a bit at the word, their gaze moving off to the side by instinct and their teeth gnashing. Of course, why would this be any different? Even to people as odd-looking as this, they were still _monsters_. They immediately decided they would accept some bandages and maybe a shirt and then get going. It wasn’t worth the trouble.

Beside them, Frisk let out a small gasp. Chara blinked, glancing first to them, and then up ahead - and their steps faltered in turn. Before them was the largest, most magnificent structure they had ever seen. It towered high above the ground, white, serene, imposing. Around the walls, there were hedges with flowers and a bed of fallen leaves. In front of the entryway was a great tree that towered nearly as high as the castle itself, but it was bare of any foliage. From just ahead, their guide smiled back at them.

“This is it! I think Mom and Dad are inside - they’re super nice, don’t worry!” he reassured them considerately, but neither of the kids were really paying much attention. They were still trying to absorb the stark contrast to the dinky village they had known their entire lives - but eventually, Chara looked back to him and nodded slowly. Together, the three children stepped towards the large door, entering in apprehension…

… a cozy, friendly looking home. Before them was a comfortable entryway, only made a bit odd by a padlocked staircase. To the left, Chara could hear voices talking softly; it was that way that their guide ran. “Mom! Dad!” he called, leaving Chara and Frisk to stand there, uncertain and curious.

“Some weird looking monsters showed up in the garden!” he was saying, and Chara very slowly started to walk towards the threshold. “I think they’re hurt, so I brought them in here so that we could help them!”

“Oh, dear,” came a deep, resounding voice. It made Chara falter for a second, but they continued to step cautiously into the room. “How odd - but very kind of you, Asriel. Where are they?”

“Right here!” Their guide - Asriel - turned to face them, gesturing them forward encouragingly. A warm smile stretched across his face. “C’mon, there’s nothing to worry about!”

Chara wasn’t really sure they believed that, but they approached, regardless. The room was small and comfortable - a fire was burning in a fireplace next to an empty armchair, a bookcase against the wall, a table with three chairs and one seated figure…

… who had the same strange white fur and ears as Asriel, but also two large, protruding horns from his forehead. Chara’s eyes widened and Frisk gaped for a moment, and their appearance seemed to stir a similar reaction. The large figure at the table sputtered, dropping and shattering a cup of tea all over the table. Chara jumped back, holding Frisk tightly to their side and trying not to tremble.

“Hu-Humans?!” the great monster yelped, bewildered. From another room, a third fluffy figure appeared, clearly troubled by this sudden commotion.

“Dear, what are you-” she began before looking towards Chara and Frisk. She jumped, pressing a paw to her mouth. Chara was suddenly struck by how goatlike they all appeared to be. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed. That was it. They were running. Chara was halfway through processing the notion, and they nearly sprinted - when the woman finished her statement. “They are hurt! Asriel, go fetch some bandages,” she instructed, and her child nodded obediently before running into the room she had just exited. The large woman approached them kindly, and all of a sudden, Chara was struck by something else.

This woman - this monster - had red eyes. And she smiled at them.

“Do not be afraid, my children,” she reassured them, bending down to appear less imposing. “I am Toriel, the queen of monsters. It seems you have fallen a long way from your home. It has been a long time since we have seen a human - but we will help you.” She straightened again, turning now to the large monster, who was simply staring at her. “Well? Do not just stand there. Clean up your mess,” she chided lightly, before turning back to the two of them and smiling once more. “This is my husband, Asgore, the king of monsters. You appear to have startled him, but do not be alarmed. He is harmless.”

Chara wasn’t so sure about that - and judging by his stiff posture, the king wasn’t sure, either. He studied their face for a moment before his eyes flickered down to Frisk. They grabbed onto the older’s sweater, holding the crumpled, comforting garland of flowers close to their face as they tried to hide away. Protectively, Chara tightened their grip and shot him a tense look. After the briefest of moments, something seemed to click in the man’s head, and he finally broke into a gentle smile.

“Ah… yes. Please, forgive me,” he rumbled, scratching sheepishly behind his neck. “It has been a very long time since we have seen humans. It was, ah, a bit of a surprise, you see. We will bring you no harm. I promise.”

Uncertainty still hung thick in the air between the two parties, but Asriel broke the tension by running back into the room. “Got ‘em!” he announced cheerfully, holding a box of bandages out to Chara. Slowly, they reached out and accepted the offering.

“... Thanks,” they mumbled after a brief pause, quickly turning and crouching down to Frisk. Their fingers were still a bit mangled, but this was more important; they reached out and peeled away the old bandages just barely hanging onto the younger’s face, replacing them with fresh ones from the box. They peeled away the backs with their teeth and plastered a few on there, encouraging Frisk to show them anywhere else they might have been scuffed up, but they pouted and pointed at them, instead. _No, for you!_

Chara frowned a bit at this insistence. It really wasn’t as big of a deal - what if one of Frisk’s cuts got infected, though? What if that made them really sick? That would be bad - but they wouldn’t take anymore, so they had to admit some form of defeat. They stuck them around the worst of their throbbing fingers, and Frisk reached up to pat one against their cheek. And that was… almost all of the bandages. Whoops. Once again, their teeth worried their bottom lip nearly raw; would this upset their apparent hosts? They never said how many they were welcome to, after all, so maybe this was too many? In one hand they gathered the wrappers, turning slowly to face what could very well be some incredulous goat people.

But instead, Toriel seemed more intent on shooing Asgore away into the kitchen with his broken tea cup - and Asriel was looking at them with a warm smile. “If you need some more, I’m sure I can find some!” he offered helpfully, tilting his head just a bit. “Or if you need something bigger, I think we have some… wrap, stuff? What’sit…?”

Chara blinked a little bit at this before slowly returning the now mostly-emptied box. “Gauze?” they offered, their voice incredibly small; Asriel brightened and nodded, taking the box in both of his paws.

“Yeah, that’s it! Lemme know if you need any, okay? Or, um, anything else!” he rattled on, looking hopefully between the two of them. The fallen child simply gave a small nod, honestly wishing they could slink away with Frisk again and be off.

Their eyes flickered back to the far door, where Toriel emerged with a soft sigh of exasperation. She turned back to her new guests, once more offering a smile as she stepped closer. “Now, then. Is there anything I can get you? Some water? A snack? Would you like to rest for a while?”

Everything about this made Chara tense. There was something to this, then. Some loophole, something they were missing? They pressed their lips together, trying to spot the ulterior motive, before mumbling something faintly.

Toriel blinked and moved just a step closer, leaning down so that she didn’t tower over them so much. “I am sorry, my child. I could not hear you, even with these large ears of mine. Can you repeat that?” Frisk smiled a bit and buried their face in Chara’s side, but this attempt at humor did nothing to fix the older’s dry mouth or itchy palms.

“H… How do we leave here?” they asked a bit more loudly, and they recoiled a bit when Toriel’s expression dropped. At this reaction, she seemed a bit puzzled, but Chara couldn’t help but stammer, “W-We were just… we were on our way, and, um, th-thank you for the bandages, we just…” Their hand twitched towards the knife in their bag immediately, they pushed Frisk behind them a bit more - they would have to protect Frisk first and foremost, and then they could run for the door, and then maybe-

“My child… what is your name?”

The question made their thoughts falter. Slowly, they raised their eyes to the queen of all monsters, who was looking at them with all the tenderness they imagined a mother should have. It almost reminded them of… a librarian. Her smile was warm and perhaps tinged with a bit of sadness. “If you do not mind, I would like to know it.”

It was baffling. Why was their name important? They just wanted to leave and get somewhere with only Frisk. That had been the plan from the beginning. And yet, they found themself replying steadily, “Chara. This is Frisk.”

Toriel smiled warmly once again, nodding slowly. “Chara and Frisk… they are both lovely names. My dear children, you are a long way from home, I am sure. And it is a very long way to the surface… so I believe it would be best if you stayed with us for a time. You will be well taken care of. We can tend your wounds, and feed you, and give you some clothes suited for your journey, if you would like. You have nothing to be afraid of, here, no matter how far it is from home.”

This was absurd. This wasn’t real. This sort of thing didn’t happen; people didn’t talk like that, people didn’t make offers like that. People weren’t safe or caring, they didn’t try and help total strangers. Much less demons with red eyes. They were never so kind.

But then again, children did not fall into mountains, and they did not find fuzzy monster royalty waiting for them. Their teeth carved grooves into their lips, and they glanced down to Frisk, who simply stared up at them. They could see the furrow of their eyebrows that meant they were nervous, but there was something else in their gaze.

A bit of weariness. A bit of hope…?

Chara’s eyes moved slowly back to Toriel, who was staring at the two of them patiently, the same gentle smile across her face. Asriel stood back, looking at them curiously - and he quickly glanced away again, looking nervous and fidgeting with his paws. Now that they had a strange moment of calm to reflect, it seemed almost obvious; of course these were monsters. Real, actual monsters, like in the storybooks, and like those old fossils. Beings that humans had not laid eyes upon for likely millennia, because monsters were said to be dangerous, could take a human’s soul and shift it into something horrible.

And yet, weren’t they said to be the same? Dangerous, terrible creatures that wrought nothing but evil? Their eyes went back to Toriel’s again.

Rubies, sunsets, dawns and new beginnings.

“... Okay,” they finally said faintly, their voice not quite carrying. They were full of doubt and uncertainty - they had never been so hesitant in their entire life. Everything they had ever known taught them not to trust this offer, but something inside of them desperately wanted to. Even if it was only for a day, having somewhere safe, something to lean on, would be everything.

The queen straightened with a gentle smile, and she gave a small nod. “I am so happy to hear you say that!” Her voice was kept steady, but they could hear the genuine relief in it. She turned to the prince, adding, “Our guests will be staying in your room for a while, okay?” Clearly, this wasn’t a question, but was almost phrased as if to suggest one.

Asriel seemed a bit unsure for a moment; his expression flickered, but he took one more look at the ragged pair of children, and he straightened with a resolved nod. “Yes! That’s fine!” he finally replied, smiling and placing his hands on his hips, as if with pride. “They can make themselves at home!”

Toriel nodded, pleased, and then stepped from the room again. “This way, my children,” she beckoned, making sure they were following close behind her. This proved utterly unnecessary, given that Asriel’s room was directly in the next hall, but she still opened the door and presented it to them with another warm smile.

The room was larger than Chara’s had been, and certainly larger than Frisk’s, but they supposed that was to be expected of a prince. There were a few photographs here and there, a wardrobe, a box of toys, a bed. It was all surprisingly neat and orderly, and Chara carefully led Frisk inside. Their eyes landed on everything quickly, trying to pick out something that might jump out or surprise them, but everything seemed… ordinary.

“You may rest here for a while, if you wish,” she went on, hovering by the door as the children inched closer into their new abode. “If you need anything, please do not be afraid to ask, okay? Make yourselves at home!” With that, she stepped out, shutting the door gently behind her and leaving the two fallen children alone again.

Letting out a long breath, Chara turned to Frisk, who slowly separated from them and wandered around the room. They looked over all the photos and pictures on the walls, took a peek inside the closet, rifled through the trunk of toys. Chara let themself relax just a bit, and they sighed before swinging their dusty pack off their shoulders. The motion made their muscles whine in protest, but they ignored it, simply digging through it a little for something that might be of use. They pulled out a change of clothes for Frisk, so that they could get out of the pajamas they’d been wearing for so long; all of it was rather baggy on them, but at least it was cleaner. Chara pulled on another sweater in turn, adjusting their bandages and sighing.

“So what do you think?” they asked Frisk, looking up to the child that had already bounced up to the twin-sized bed and set their garland beside them.

Tilting their head a little, they pushed up their sleeves before signing, _It feels safe here_.

Honestly, this took Chara by surprise. It felt safe here? They didn’t exactly feel the same - it felt like a backstabbing waiting to happen. Maybe that was why they’d taken the knife out of their pack and were now tossing it restlessly between their hands. Everything here felt too good to be true; surely, something like this was nothing more than a pipe dream. “You think so?”

Frisk nodded resolutely.

“Do you even feel a little nervous?”

There was a beat of hesitation before Frisk nodded again, but they held up a finger before elaborating. _It’s new, but it’s nice._

As usual, Chara started to gnaw on their lip, but they finally admitted defeat and stepped over to the bed. With a heavy breath, they lowered themself beside Frisk; immediately, their legs began to ache. They hadn’t really realized how exhausted they were, and this bed was the most comfortable thing they had ever felt. They might not ever get up, at this rate.

“Well… I guess it can’t hurt to stay a little while,” they mumbled, carefully reaching over to the nightstand and placing down the knife. “Just until we get situated again…”

But as life may have it, things could never be so simple.

But for once, perhaps that was a blessing.

 


End file.
